Of all Enigma puzzles, the rebus and anagram offer the
most play to the composer’s imagination. By the same token,
they are the two types most subject to abuse. I’ll discuss
some things you may encounter in rebi. (I use rebi, a traditional
NPL joke plural, throughout this article. The joke plural of
suber - a rebus in reverse - is iber.) Some information may not
be completely clear until you’ve been solving for a few
months; none will be clear until you have read the rebus and rebade sections in types of flats.
Don’t assume I’m endorsing every rebic practice
described here!

In most of the following examples, for clarity, the
rubric’s reading is given in parentheses after the answer,
with implied words supplied in brackets where needed.

The simplest sort of rebus refers solely to the letters and
other symbols in the rubric and to their positions. Examples are
THALE = in the
altogether (in THE, AL together), CI
C = catatonic (suber: CI not at a
C), and WY = right of
way ([to the] right of W [is] a Y). Interjections
sometimes spice things up: BALD =
ballooned (BAL; lo! one D). They can be
overused: P, for example, is a rather
silly rubric for hoopla (ho! O! P, la!).
You’ll have to judge for yourself whether a rebus is better
with, for example, an O left in the rubric or taken out and
treated as an interjection in the reading.

Even very simple rebi can raise questions. What is the best
rubric for finish in front? Probably most
people would say H IFS (F in IS; H [is]
in front), where the H is read before (in front of) IFS. But many
argue that IFS H is proper, where in
front means “farthest along in the direction of
advance.” Other prepositions share this ambiguity, and you
may see rubrics of either sort. The use of time adverbs and
prepositions for spatial relations, as in BT = beret (B ere T), is accepted rebus
practice.

Most letters have names: be, bee, ce, cee, aitch, ar, zed,
izzard, and so on. The two-letter names are in NI3, not 11C, but
they are so commonly used and easy to remember that they are not
tagged in readings. (One oddity: ze is not MW, but feel free to
use it anyway.)

One phonetic technique became a cliché: the equivalence
of “see” and “C”, especially “I
see” for -ic word endings. A verse
by Hudu lamented an eternal verity of puzzling: “Whenever a
rebus is labeled phonetic / There’s always a C in the
answer.” This is less of a problem these days; still, if a
C is the only phonetic aspect of your rebus, as in O = caring (see a ring),
consider leaving the C in the rubric and not making the rebus
phonetic at all.

Rebus grammar can be quite condensed, often omitting forms of
“to be” and other words. Word order, too, can be
quite free, as in O = iodoform (I O do form - for “I do form O”)
and H = T for this (T, H is-for “H is T”). Ambiguity is
possible: grafter could have the rubric
GR (G; R after [it]) or RG (G, R after-for “G, after R”). The
latter version is forced but has been used to good effect, as in
0 Y bR = a naughty
little brat (a naught; Y; little B, R at). Inversions like
these are all right, but readings must be clearly grammatical.
For example, L = penal (pen a L) is illegal; the reading would have to
be pen an L.

A reading may tell how the rubric was made: D = adipose (a D I pose) or
tell the solver how to do it: MYEC =
appendectomy (append EC to MY). It may
also describe the situation: D =
dissolution (D is solution), A = read a paperback of it
(read A; paper [in] back of it). One may even have the rubric
letters speak: P = imp (I’m P), or be spoken to: GHT = bethought (be thou
GHT). Crossing-out is a fertile technique, as in OP = dessertspoon (suber: no O; P stressed) and
I = decaffeinates (suber: set an I effaced).

Anything not near the middle of the space above the verse may
be an indicator of positional words. Thus a B at the right of the column could be Brighton (B, right, on [= on top of the verse]).
XXX at the left could be tench I export (ten, chi, ex [to] port). AB under the verse could be strike a low blow (strike A low; B low). Abbreviations
of directions (N, S, E, W, L, R, NE, etc.) have grown common, as
in CM/PH [at the right side of the
column] = ectomorph (E., C to M or PH).
Usually E, for example, implies position at the right of the
column, but sometimes it just means position at the
right-east-end of the rubric. For example, MYR at the top of the rubric area is a phonetic
rebus for wisenheimer (Y’s in high
M, E. R).

Enigmatic rebi offer a great variety of ideas, and only
experience can give you a feel for the possibilities.
“Enigmatic” is not a label for a particular type of
rebus; it is more a red flag, warning the solver that something
tricky is going on. Roughly speaking, an enigmatic rebus is one
whose solution depends on more than the rubric characters, their
placement, the situation, or obvious modifications to the puzzle
text.

I will mention some rebus types that are ordinarily enigmatic.
Note: the terminology is mine, for discussion purposes, and is
never used in The Enigma.

In meaning rebi, elements in the
rubric are used for their meanings rather than as strings of
letters and numbers. In one common type, letters are used as
symbols or abbreviations rather than simply as written
representations of sounds. An example is this rebus about a child
star who can’t play matinees: mm Θ
ms = afternoons, the tad is played by male
midgets (after “noons” [m = meridies, the
abbreviation for noon in 11C], theta displayed by
“male” [m = abbreviation for male], midget S), where
each m is more than just a letter m.
Another is BASiS = basilicons (B, A, silicon, S). More subtle is
7R = neutral
Pharisee (neutral pH, ar I see), where 7 represents more than just 6 + 1 (see pH in
11C).

Nonalphabetic characters generally do not make a rebus
enigmatic; for one thing, the solver needs no prompting to
realize that they are symbols. Unfamiliar symbols not in the
“Signs and Symbols” sections of 11C or NI2 are tagged
- for example, “Rubric has non-MW material” - to warn
the solver to look elsewhere. But the rebus itself will be
labeled enigmatic if the rubric involves the meaning of the
symbol rather than its simple verbal equivalent. For example,
·-·-·- is the Morse code for
“period.” A simple phonetic rebus like ·-·-·- = periodical (period: I see all) is not enigmatic (and
really should be done with the simple rubric .). But ·-·-·- = codetermination (code “termination”) is
enigmatic, since it is based on the meaning of the period in
English punctuation. Another enigmatic example is: C$.10 = catamount (C at
amount).

All alphabets are nonenigmatic, including the ones given in
11C under alphabet, manual alphabet, Morse
code, and rune. Watch out for
Greek letters that look English; P can
be rho as well as pe. For example, X =
chilies here (chi lies here).

Another type of meaning rebus contains words taken as words:
they are used for their meanings, not as groups of letters. For
example, Ship = have
supper, case the joint (have S uppercase; the joint).
Synonym rebi are often just charades in rebus form, but they can
be subtler: pen = Aswan
Dam (a swan dam - ”dam” in the sense of
“mother”; a female swan is called a pen). Another
example: Zipangu EB = at
last count, rye bread. The reading (at last country, EB
[is] read) is dependent on the placement of Zipangu in 11C;
it’s the last country in the “Geographical
Names” section. Note that words used this way are put in
the rubric in their normal form, not in all capitals. Compare
JOSIDEKE = sidesplitting
joke; here, SIDE and JOKE happen to be words, but the rebus would work
exactly the same if they were meaningless strings of letters, so
this is not a meaning rebus - and not enigmatic - and the words
are not lowercased. Noms are often used in rubrics; since they
appear in Enigma both mixed case and all in caps, they can appear
in rubrics either way.

Transformational rebi involve
alterations to inferred words or puzzle text. An enigmatic
example is D =
dauntless aunt (DAUNT less [the letters]
AUNT), where DAUNT is transformed by
removal of the letters A, U, N, T to produce the final form of
the rubric, D. Note: in this subtractive
type there should be something to subtract from! ALIS = nominalism (no M in
ALISM) is okay, but AL = nominal (no M in AL) is not; there is no reason for
that M to be in the reading. The
standard nonenigmatic method for subtraction is crossing out:
AML = nominal. The ultimate subtraction leaves nothing
behind, just an extra blank line or two between title and verse.
This could clue stakeouts (S; take out S),
gundog (G; undo G), and so on. Naturally,
the verse clue to one of these must be good, since it’s
doing all the work.

A transformational rebus is sometimes not labeled enigmatic if
the “before” of the transformation can be inferred
easily from the “after” rubric. A verse that clued
forest (for es, T) by changing every S in
the verse to T (at in thit parenthetit), or by just retitling the
puzzle REBUT, would not be enigmatic. It would be obvious that
something had changed, and the nature of that change would not be
hard to infer. But a rebus titled SUBER, clueing suer for real sous (SU, ER for RE, also US) is
enigmatic, since it looks like a normal suber.

Another nonenigmatic way to show transformations has been to
make the rubric a transformed alphabet: ABCDSFGHIJKLMNOP QRSTUVVXYZ = make waves (make W [into] a V [and] E, S).

Transposition (shuffling the rubric letters) is one type of
transformation that is not considered enigmatic, whether
implicit, as in DIRECT = letters of credit, or explicit, as in GLENLIPS = reformed spelling
and CAT = taciturn. A rubric that makes sense, rather than being
a jumble of letters, is often a sign of a transposition.

If you can’t find the rubric in the usual place, the
puzzle may be a subtle transformational rebus: the period after
the puzzle number may be missing (to clue outpoint or pointless), or the
author line may be changed (the state FL could be changed to HX
to clue fish and listen - F is H and L is
ten).

The pictorial rebus regards the
rubric (or part of it) as a picture rather than as a group of
characters. An example is o o =
pieces of eight, where the o’s are seen not as letters but as a picture
of a broken-up 8. A similar example is '
' = split second (the symbol for
second - a double quote - is split). Certain pictures are
regarded as standard, not enigmatic: O
for all sorts of round things (ring, disc, orb); X = cross; and the convention
of laying a letter on its back to indicate
“sickness,” as in = bill (B ill).

Extrapolation rebi have rubrics
referring to words or phrases of which only parts are given:
x = deep in the heart of
Texas, l = most
of all (because L’s make up two thirds of ALL),
v = center of
gravity. Note that the rubric in each case is lowercase,
indicating that it is considered part of a word, rather than a
letter with no connection to any particular word. (Some cases are
ambiguous.) The rubric in this type is not very helpful, so the
verse should clue the answer particularly well. The comment rebus is related, focusing on part of the
rubric: BRAN = raisin
bran (RA is in BRAN).

In a treasure hunt rebus, part of
the puzzle is figuring out where or what the rubric is. (The same
problem can also occur in a transformational rebus, as noted
above.) For example:

ENIGMATIC REBUS [4 5] (NI3)

To raise or lower sails that are square,
You’ll be glad that THESE are there.

=Panache

The solution is: clew lines. Clew is
another spelling of clue; the verse is the rubric. Another
example was in the June 1990 issue, in which a heart appeared
over “June 1990” at the top of page 1. This clued a
rebus on an inner page, which had the following tag:
“(rubric is earlier in this issue).” The solution was
make love on the first date.

The two-level rebus is particularly
enigmatic: it is essentially a progressive rebus with the middle
step implicit. One example is the phonigmatic K
= K* for Kissinger (K is K star,
phonetically “K is Kay Starr,” which is a rubric for
K is singer). Another phonigmatic example: Sam
Bret Hope Stork = four suits (by
way of Spade Harte [heart] Diamond Club). Note that, adding to
the enigmaticity, one step in the first example is a meaning
rebus, as are both in the second example. It’s a general
NPL rule that all puzzles are harder than they seem to the
composer; the danger of producing an unsolvable puzzle is
particularly great for this doubly convoluted type, so be sure to
provide good clueing in the verse.

Enigmatic types can be combined, of course. One part of a
rubric might be pictorial while another is transformational. A
more intimate blend is shown by New Je
ey = out-of-staters (out of [a]
state, RS). The fact that everything is lowercase except the
natural initial capitals suggests that this is a meaning rebus;
the space indicates that it is transformational (subtractive,
from New Jersey).

Another possibility, combining a symbolic part with a
transformation: itts urgh =
get the lead out (get the lead [= Pb]
out). The fact that everything is lowercase suggests that this is
a meaning rebus; the spaces suggest that it’s
transformational (subtractive, from Pittsburgh), so perhaps the
meaningful unit is there only to indicate that a P and B are
missing. You may have the solution before you realize that
it’s also indicating that the missing P is uppercase and
the B lowercase.

The rebade and subade can use any of the rebus techniques
described above. Their unique difficulty is keeping track of
which letters of the reading go into which answer words. I find
it useful to work with two arrays of dashes, one for the solution
words and one for the reading. I work back and forth between the
two, replacing corresponding dashes in each with letters as I go.
For example, given a rebade with rubric 0 and enumeration (5, 4, *4), if I found that THREE
was Erie, then guessed that zero was part of the reading, the diagrams would go
from:

And so on until the answer appeared: ozone, Ness, Erie (one zero’s in, see!).

You can also do the array with the solution words going down
and the reading across; in that case, the reading line can be
eliminated.

- - -
- - -
- - -
- - -
-

to

- - E
- - R
- - I
- - E
-

to

- - E
Z E R
O - I
- - E
-

to

O N E
Z E R
O S I
N S E
E

This works for other types, too. In subades you must remember
to reverse when transferring from array to line (or to read the
columns bottom-to-top).

I don’t have many rebus/rebade solving hints beyond
“Practice!” The following may sometimes help. Given a
string of letters, try a variety of prepositions and arrangements
to see if something clicks; UMS might be
minus, inusem,
umats, utomus
(Greek mu there), spastum, umans, uthemess, and so on. In
solving a suber, try writing the rubric backward to see if it
suggests a word. In solving a rebade, try to find a long word and
write it alternade-fashion. For example, in solving a five-part
subade with R in the rubric, you might
learn from the 11C “Signs and Symbols” section that
it stood for “ascending node.” You could then write
it out like this:

E

D

O

N

G

N

I

D

N

E

C

S

A

(Remember, it’s a subade, so you would write it out in
reverse.) All of the letter sequences (reading down) look likely
to occur in words, which is encouraging; and if one of the words
clued by the verse contains -nn-, -ge-, -enc-, -dis-, or -oda-,
you know how to start filling things in.

Here are two conventions to keep in mind when composing:

Always capitalize rubric letters unless there’s a reason
not to. One such reason is to indicate size: for example,
Bd could be big-boned (big B, one D) or belittled (be, little D).

Divide up a long rubric to give the solver clues to its
structure. One way to do this is to break up the reading into
phrases with semicolons and break up the rubric to match. For
example: SET OER Y = the
Einstein theory (the E in ST; E in the OR; Y).

One last word: be kind to the solver. Unlike other flats, the
rebus gives you two places for clueing. If you create a difficult
rubric, make the verse very revealing to avoid tiresome
obscurity.